Into the Past
by Aliyah-7
Summary: (changed summary!). Being the librarian of the Iacon database, Orion Pax has only lived the life through datapads and old stories. But, finding for once an interest in reality, Orion adventures in the real world, unaware of what lies ahead, (detailed explanation inside).
1. Humility

**Ummm, Hello! This is my first Transformers fic (the second I publish, to be honest, but the first one I deleted it). This is my version of how things happened before the war broke loose. Be welcome to review and tell me what you think of it; if you didn't like it, please tell me why so I can improve my skills.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form. All the characters belong to Hasbro, and the general main plot as well.**

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"Humility"

Many stories start with a hero, whose bravery, combat skills, or optimism are well-known for his companions. All these heroes pass to the history as a role model to be admired and followed but, if it weren't for those who decided to write their stories, probably they would end up forgotten into the long distant memories of the past.

Orion Pax was a young mech back then. Curious, calm, reserved, polite; those were some of the qualities that he had the others use to describe him. But, truth be told, he wished to be more than that.

Was it wrong to desire more? He did not know. Sometimes he thought it was; he had acquired knowledge others would kill for, and, at the same time, he had built a barrier that kept him aside from the rest. He was used to spend every day on the Iacon database, if not ordering the files people let in the wrong section, reading old history files. His processor was so overloaded with stories of brave mechs that had made a change for good in the cybertronian history that he wished he could be one of them or, at least, make a difference and bring a better living to the people in cybertron.

It was one of those days people would barely go to the library, leaving Orion free time to wander in the infinity of his thoughts. He still had a lot of work to do, but he felt no pressure. His optics scanned the board over and over, but he was paying no attention to what it said. Maybe he didn't wish to be a hero as much as he wished to have friends. Being the only in charge of the files in Iacon made him a pretty lonely mech; but no one had ever asked him if he felt lonely or not. And, to be honest, he had never said it in front of his superior either.

"I'm over thinking again..." thought Orion.

Maybe he was, maybe he wasn't. It is hard to tell when you have no one around you. But, whenever he felt loneliness trying to reach his spark, he would always grab a datapad filled of ancient history and read until his processor has forgotten what made him feel lonely in the first place. He was doing that, actually, when the echoing sound of steps coming through was heard on the Hall of Records.

"Umm, excuse me?"

Orion, being focused on his datapad, hadn't heard the step of the incoming visitor. His optics traveled out of the datapad he was holding, and meet the blue-piercing ones of the femme standing in front of him. Quickly, he put the datapad behind him, where a shelf was placed, and went back to attend the lady that had just interrupted him.

"My apologies, I..." she started. Orion couldn't help but notice how her voice was delicate, sweet. The coy smile she had on her lips made her all more beautiful, but it was definitely her expressive eyes what had caught Orion's attention.

"You don't need to apologize," he interrupted her, "I was doing nothing". Orion gave her a small but reassuring smile, and the femme's shyness partially disappeared.

"What can I do for you?" said Orion politely.

"Well," she started, "I've looking for a datapad recently, and searched for all the shelves, but I can't find it."

Her digits rested on the counter, and her optics on him. Orion, stunned by the confusing impressions his processor was having, had troubles to put himself together and go back to help the femme whose optics were piercing his own mind.

"Do you happen to know the name of this datapad?" he asked as he covered his primary reaction with a simple action as typing random things on the board behind the counter her digits were laying on.

"The Forge of Solus Prime, I think" was her unsure reply.

Orion, though he was surprised by her choice, did not say or show anything. Typing in the board, he read that The Forge of Solus Prime had been recently returned, meaning it had to be in one of the dozens of piles he had stored behind him. If he didn't feel the pressure before, now he did.

"Umm..." said an uncomfortable Orion. "I think I have it... here."

He turned around, and began to search between the lots of datapads he had to organize every day. Some of them had been returned to him, and some others had been left somewhere else and he had to put them back into its place. Whatever the reasons were, he felt like he had no excuse to delay the femme that was patiently waiting for him.

He searched between all of his datapads, but The Forge of Solus Prime one was nowhere to be found. Maybe he had put it back on its place and forgot about it, considering how many times a day he had to do the same thing it wasn't surprising. Checking again in the monitor the date of its returning, Orion convinced himself the datapad must be back on its shelf.

"Are you sure you it wasn't on the shelves?" he asked to her.

"It had to be on Shelf 23, of Delta section, right?" she replied.

Again, the femme had managed to surprise him; how was it possible he had never seen her before? knowing so well the database meant she had been there more than once (otherwise, just as many others, she would have gotten lost). Leaving the small station he was used to work on, Orion went to check on the shelf by himself; the femme, whose name Orion was eager to know, was following him close behind.

They arrived to the shelf, the femme cautiously looking, in case she had missed it. Orion, seeing she was focused in that, decided to check the datapads that were above her reach.

"Here it is," he said as he raised his arm to reach a datapad placed in the upper self.

The femme took it carefully, a smile of embarrassment on her faceplates. Orion thought she couldn't look more adorable, but, feeling regret for thinking such thing, he didn't let himself enjoy the moment when his servo made contact with hers.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile.

The femme started to make her way out of the building, and Orion couldn't help but feel sad for it. She wasn't the first femme that had come to the Iacon database, but she was the first femme that had caused a strong first impression on him. Was he really going to let her go? Not even knowing her name? Or when she will come again?

"What else can I do?" he thought to himself, the silhouette of the femme almost disappearing from his sight.

As an idea came to his mind, he didn't have time to think whether to apply it or not. His legs, without receiving an order, ran down the path the femme has followed, hoping to catch her up.

"Wait!" he yelled before she could leave building.

The femme, surprised by the loud sound in a place where silence should reign, turned around to see who was making such loud noise, only to find that it was librarian that had attended her minutes ago.

She stared at him with surprise and confusion; she gave him a few moments to catch his breath (figuratively), and then waited for him to tell her what was wrong. But, even more contradictory, when he felt ready to talk, his eyes got locked into her and no words came from his lips.

Orion, being so focused on reach her, hadn't thought of what exactly he was going to tell her. Improvisation wasn't his strong suit and, the more he thought of it, the more time he wasted and the more ridiculous he looked. Maybe he should have let her go and wait for her to return the datapad...

"No." He told to himself; and with that, he gained enough courage to speak without stutter.

"I have to register the datapad before you take it."

The surprise in her faceplates caused a good impression in Orion, the femme was oblivious to his true intentions and, it revealed a quality that Orion was innerly fond of: naivety.

Walking in silence, they went back to the counter where Orion had been working when she came in. He went inside his station and started typing on the board, registering data that he could have perfectly registered without her since he knew the book, the date and the hour they were taken.

"Name?" he asked, his optics on the board to not let the anxiety be seen through them.

"Elita One," replied the femme with a smile.

It was a name Orion would never forget, along with her glittering blue optics and her spark-warming smile. Orion typed the name on the screen, and wished with all his might that the day when she returned the datapad would arrive soon.

The femme, now Elita One, gave Orion a last smile and a low 'thank you very much' before leave. Finding himself in the solitude of the library, Orion felt no datapad could offer him enough feelings of bravery and optimism than those that had been inspired by a real self. Maybe he hadn't finished the oppression against lower casts, but he had done something he had never dared to before, making him feel brave for first time in his life.

Day passed by, and nothing more interesting happened. For when his mentor, Alpha Trion, came back from a meeting he had been attending all day, he repaired on the smile Orion had on his lips; had he ever seen him like this before? He couldn't remember. But it was a good thing to see him happy, nonetheless.

Night arrived, and Orion went home. Normally, he would have stayed at the Iacon database, reading and ordering what he left; but after the events of that day, his only wish was to rest on his berth and dream with the feelings that such beautiful femme had inspired in him. Maybe it was too soon to call it love; but she had triggered something in him. Hopefully, he would have caused the same impression on her.

If Orion had been more fair with himself, he would have learned that all those heroes he admired had started like him, with humility and a wish. He was more than he thought he was, and his knowledge was beyond comparison. Time would let him know that, but, for today, it was time to sleep. And, with his processor running happy thoughts, Orion fell asleep.

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**I'm sorry if the chapter is too short. I will try my best to make the next one better. I know there has to be many of these stories wandering on the internet; but this is something I've thought by own, and I apologize beforehand if it looks like another story you might have read.**

**Hope you have liked it, and review!**

**P.S: I haven't seen G1 (sadly), I apologize if Elita acts OOC. I had to work with the info on the wikia.**


	2. The Coliseum, Part I

**And here it is chapter two! Special thanks to CyberKia for reviewing and to PhoenixoftheLostandForgotten and Anvenx for following. Please remember to review! If you like it, tell me why, if you don't, same thing! That way I can improve my skills.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form. All the characters belong to Hasbro, and the general main plot as well.**

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"The Coliseum, Part I"

Orion woke up next day with a happiness unusual in him. He had fell asleep thinking of the smile of miss Elita (he didn't dare to call her by her name), and he had woke up thinking of meeting her today. He washed and polished his plating, hoping to cause a good second impression, in case the first one had failed.

But there are few beings in Cybertron that can read a datapad in one night, Orion being one of them. He should have known that it would take the femme a few days to finish the datapad and return it. But his hopes didn't vanish so soon; if she didn't show up today, she would definitely show up tomorrow.

And, with that thought, he waited for a week, the smile he woke up with fading slowly each day.

"She could have sent the datapad with someone else..." thought Orion, his optics focused on the screen and a servo resting on his chin. Since give the name wasn't a real requirement to obtain a datapad (they used to match the time and date with the security system, but only for when the librarian in charge couldn't remember the face of who borrowed the datapad), she could have sent someone on her behalf.

Orion typed the name of the datapad on the system, and the machine started processing the information. Could it be he had missed her? Or that she sent someone else? Orion was, though he didn't think of this, the best librarian the Iacon Database ever had. His knowledge and ability of recognition was amazing. If someone returned that datapad for her then he would have noticed, the name of it was impressed in his processor just as the smile of who borrowed it.

The machine beeped, explaining the search had ended. The datapad hadn't been returned yet.

The young librarian let go a sigh of relief at this; he still had a chance to meet her. Two hours passed, his optics focused on the main door, waiting for her spark-warming smile do its effect on him.

"Are you okay, Orion?"

Daydreaming about her again, Orion didn't notice his mentor coming down his way. The sound of his voice made him jump slightly, but he recovered soon of this, and his optics traveled from the door, to him.

"I'm fine, sir."

Alpha Trion, knowing the naive spark the young mech had, could tell he wasn't fine as he claimed to be. He had noticed how, for the past week, Orion had acted more anxious; he would do anything with a special excitement that he normally lacked of. Something must have happened to keep him that enthusiastic and, apparently, that something was vanishing now.

"Why don't you take the day off?" he suggested. Maybe the change of enviroment would help him to gather his thoughts.

Orion stared at him with surprise for a moment, and then his gaze went back to the door; what if she comes today? he thought. Frowning, Orion meditated for a few seconds about this. The datapad she took was a long one, she would probably need more than a week to finish it; besides, if he kept on thinking about her, he would barely get any job done. Since his mentor was proud of his skills, Orion wished to not disappoint him; and with his current state of mind, he could probably fail. Taking his decision, then, Orion stood up.

"Thank you, sir." replied Orion, "I promise I will be better for tomorrow."

"I'm sure you will," said the mentor, smiling at his apprentice.

Alpha Trion stared at the figure of Orion until he disappeared from the library. Humility, naivety, kindness... he could see in Orion a true leader; someone who could make a difference using words and not violence. Keeping him in the library, making him wiser than himself, had been part one of his training. Now it was time for Orion to know about the world; to let him see with his own optics the wonders that seemed to have been forgotten. If the young mech had acquired the knowledge he expected, then Orion would find, eventually, the joys of life than many mechs and femmes didn't care about anymore.

Traffic in Cybertron was something common. The city, bathed by the warmness of the sun, looked wonderful. Orion let his optics enjoy the view; the buildings, shinning at their tops, the vehicles passing by and, every once in a while, a flier crossing the sky, the clean streets; everything seemed to be at peace. Decided to cheer himself up, Orion decided to take a walk with no direction. Many of his heroes had done it before; when they did not know where to go, they would pick a random path, and see what surprises were laying ahead of it.

Little did he know that the enchanted yelling of the Coliseum would bewitch him.

There was a certain distance between him and the Coliseum, but the blood-screaming sounds coming from it had caught his audios quickly. Orion had never support fighting unless it was for a noble cause. However, he had never seen a real combat; and all his knowledge about them was based on the ancient fights described by the old datapads in the Iacon Database.

Leading his steps towards the building, Orion felt his spark beating faster; how would it be to fight? did anger run through your fuel lines as datapads said it did? could you really lose yourself in a battle, and not remember what happened? Would you really feel no pain while you battle? Did you feel good when you win?

With this and many other questions, Orion felt no difference between him and a sparkling. His curious nature had forced him to read all those files; but it had never been so powerful as to drive him out of the library and bring him here. His processor was confused by the many emotions overwhelming him, but all of them ceased when he entered into the Coliseum, and found out what to battle meant.

His optics were wide open, same as his mouth. Who would have thought that he would find a real hero in there? His movements were skilled; his strength, almost legendary. Orion watched in surprise as how the fearless warrior (because he did not hesitate when he had his chance to attack), was fighting for survive with only a blade attached to his servo.

He took one hit, and then another; but it was as if he couldn't be beaten. The grey mech raised his blade and gave one cut that sliced his opponent's armor through half, but he did not fall either.

How long would the resist? he thought. Walking down the stairs, to get closer to the hole they were fighting in, he realized that both competitors were severely wounded. The one he considered his hero was leaking energon from one side; and the other had several cuts on his armor, and one stab in his shoulder. If both kept on fighting, they would lose their life. The question was, why were they fighting?

The heroe took another punch to his jaw, but he refused to lose. Panting, he made a successful effort to keep his balance. The heavy armor on his shoulders gave him a deadly semblance, but his blue optics dismissed any thoughts of cruelty or blood-thirst, wich was something his opponent was looking forward to.

The opponent was taller than him, making him almost abnormal. His teeth were outstanding, same as his claws; he had the voracious appearance of someone dangerous, someone merciless. He moved quickly, despite the black armor he carried on his shoulders, and his long arms could reach easily his opponent. The black mech gave two steps and scratched with all his might the helm of his opponent. Before the grey mech could counter attack, the black mech gave another punch, this time to the wound he had caused before.

The crowd cheered, begging for energon to be spilled in the arena. Orion was astonished by their behavior, but he was even more at the sight of grey mech falling to the ground, unconscious.

The black mech roared to the crowd, his servos inciting them to join him. The crowd went berserk and the screams of joy could easily be confused with the insults that those who supported the fallen competitor were pronouncing. Slowly, the crowd took their excitement to outside, were a battle started between each other; Orion, however, remained in the arena, his optics focused on the figure of the fallen heroe.

Carefully, he jumped the fence and stepped inside the battle arena. The ground, contrary to what he had thought, was solid dry. He ran towards the mech whose energon was leaking; his instinct telling him to help him.

"Hey, are you awake?" he asked to the grey mech, placing a servo in his shoulder.

Contrary to what he had expected, the grey mech groaned in pain, and tried to stand up. Warriors are incredibly strong, thought Orion. But his strength didn't last long. He was losing energon quickly, and his strength were vanishing with every drop that was falling. Orion helped him to sit down on the floor, waiting in silence for the mech to speak.

The mech took a glance at his enviroment, his optics stopping its track as he saw someone standing next to him. Quickly, the mech unsheathed his blade, and put away who had helped him.

"Who are you and what do you want from me!?" yelled the grey mech, quickly standing up and, with a visible pain on his faceplates, pointing his blade at Orion's neck.

"I- I just wanted to see if you were okay!" he explained, his optics filled with fear.

The standing mech took a glance at him, and withdrew his sword. Orion felt relief in his spark, but didn't move from his position. The mech frowned at his presence, and without saying a word, started to walk away.

"Wait!" said Orion as he stood up and ran to catch him up. But it seemed like he was paying no attention to his words.

"What do you want from me?" said the mech as Orion's yelling became closer and more annoying. "If you're another rich lord seeking for entertainment then you're wasting your time. I don't fight for your class."

"I'm not a rich lord." replied Orion, surprised by the hero's reply.

For a moment, both mechs remained in silence. The grey mech turned around and took another glance at his companion. He was a well-polished young mech, he could see he had barely done any hard work, and probably didn't know how to even stand in a battle. His manners were polite and caring, just as many other politicians that had arrived and pretended to be interested in his future, when the only thing they wanted was their personal gladiator. His fits clenched and he gave a hard look to the mech in front of him, but Orion didn't back off.

"I'm a librarian." he explained, giving one step closer. "I work at the Iacon database, my name is Orion Pax."

The grey mech analyzed him, and saw no lies in his optics. Maybe he just happened to be one of the few well-cared servants of a rich lord. If that was the case, he had no reason to be rude to him.

"I'm Megatronus." replied the gladiator.

"Like the fallen Prime?" asked Orion, confused of why someone would name their sparkling with that name.

Megatronus' expression changed into surprise. He knew that there was a certain Prime that had betrayed the rest, but he never learned that it had been the carrier of the same name he had chosen to carry now. He had chosen the name of Megatronus because he linked it directly with power, power that he lacked now, to be honest.

"I didn't know he was the fallen Prime," said Megatronus, not looking directly at Orion. "I just choose that name because it was different."

Orion took another step closer, curious of what mysteries he could be hiding. There were so many questions to be asked, so many things he wished to know; but now the mighty gladiator was leaking energon and probably wouldn't last long if he kept standing like nothing.

"You need to repair that." replied Orion, pointing at the sliced part.

Megatronus took a look at it and smiled, he had seen worse in himself; but maybe it was too much for the mech standing in front of him. Either way, Megatronus would need help to repair the wound, since the gladiators had no medic than themselves; maybe the young librarian could be of help, given that the medic skill of Megatronus was almost non-existant.

"Do you know how to fix it?" asked Megatronus with a raised eyebrow.

Orion smiled, happy to be of help to someone he considered a hero.

"Yes!".

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**It took me longer than expected, work has been quite troublesome lately and I've been too tired to write... not to mention too busy. Anyways, review!**

**If there' something you don't understand let me know so I can clarify it to you!**

**See ya~!**

**P.S: contrary to my other stories (and the rules I have) this story is not finished but, hopefully, I will.**


	3. The Coliseum, Part II

**Hello again! Here's the 3rd chapter! Hope you like it (though I'm not particullary proud of this chapter), and that you leave a review. If there's anything you think I need to improve, let me know; if you like it, same thing.**

******Disclaimer: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form. All the characters belong to Hasbro, and the general main plot as well.**  


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"The Coliseum, Part II"

"So, " said Megatronus to Orion Pax as he saw him go from one place to another, searching for a proper tool to patch up the wound the gladiator had; "what brings a librarian to a coliseum?"

Orion, who had found a piece of metal thick enough to contain the wound for at least a couple of days (he would need a professional to handle it, the cut was deeper than Megatronus thought), was only searching for something to weld it. However, being a librarian gave him the ability to attend two business at the same time.

"Curiosity, I presume." he replied. "I was driving with no direction when the yelling caught my attention."

"What are you looking for?" asked Megatronus as he saw him scan his quarters.

The room was almost empty; there was a solid ground made berth and steel bars on the entrance. There was also a fountain to drink some energon, but as Orion tried opening the hatch, he noticed it barely worked, and the few drops of energon were certainly contaminated. How could he live in such place? Orion did not know.

"How do you expect me to weld this to you?" asked Orion, trying to not sound as sarcastic as he intended.

"You don't carry guns?" replied Megatronus, surprised.

"I'm a librarian, why would I?" was Orion's response.

Megatronus stared at him, surprise marked on his faceplates. He must be really brave to come here, of all places... or maybe too naive to know what he was getting into. Either way, the mech had survived to the crowd and, as he could tell, his intellect was greater than his own. Perhaps he could get some benefit of someone like him, after all.

"Give me that," he demanded as he stretched his servo to receive the piece of metal.

Orion obeyed, curious of the medical skills the gladiator could have. Megatronus, then, proceeded to attach the piece of metal by stabbing two little pieces in each corner. Small drops of energon could be seen, but the gladiator didn't show any pain. Orion stared at him for a few seconds, wondering if he really was going to leave his wound like that, or was actually playing him.

"Don't you think it will open again if you leave it like that?" he asked as he saw the mech laying on berth with his servos resting in the back of his helm.

"Yeah," he replied, his optics focused on the roof; "don't worry, the medic will come in a few days to check which gladiators are still alive and then he will patch it up".

Orion stared at him, still surprised. There were many things he didn't know about the life of a gladiator; as far as he knew, gladiators were slaves that fought to please their masters _or_ they were brave warriors that wished to prove their courage facing merciless enemies. Since Megatronus himself had said he didn't fight to entertain rich lords, then it had to be the second option. But if it was like that, then, what was he doing in this place?

"Shouldn't you go home?" said Megatronus as the piercing look of the mech was making him feel uncomfortable. "It's not safe for sparklings after sunset."

Though at first Orion thought he was right, at the sound of the word 'sparkling' he felt insulted. Even his polite manners and common peace rebelled against this unjustified statement. If his optics weren't deceiving him (and this time he allowed a small amount of pride to say that they weren't), he was just as old as the mech laying in the berth.

"I'm not a sparkling," he said, his voice gaining an authority that surprised the gladiator; "I am a young mech, and smart enough to see that you and I are of the same age!"

Megatronus, seeing this sudden attitude of self-respect and courage (because you had to have courage to talk to a gladiator with such resolution), couldn't do nothing but smile. Maybe he had overestimated this young librarian; but, if he couldn't gain a follower with him, then he would gain an ally. Megatronus could see the mech worth something for his intellect, and he was willing to explode that intellect for his own benefit.

"We might have the same age," he added, after a short pause, "but what about life experience? Do you have any of that?"

Orion wished to say yes, but the gladiator would have noticed he was lying. All he knew he had read it and, until a week ago, all of his emotions had been generated by his own impression of what he read. Friends? Despite Alpha Trion was the closest person he had, he couldn't consider him a friend; friends are there for you in good and bad moments (as he had read), and you could trust them always. Though he wouldn't dare to lie to his mentor, there were some things that he had kept for himself, because he felt no one would understand it.

"... No." He said at last.

His optics traveled down the floor, and he felt defeated. How was he expecting to survive if he couldn't even win a verbal match?

"Heh!" he said, smirking triumphantly, "you probably have seen nothing of suffering and starvation!" he continued, finding pleasure in rubbing his experience against the naive librarian.

"Living in that library of yours, life must be a pleasure over there, isn't it?" he continued, walking in circles. "Always having good energon on your table, always so clean and tidy! You haven't seen how mechs, femmes and sparkling die each day working on the mines to bring the energon that your serve without a care in the world!"

Megatronus, who was first merely enjoying his victory, couldn't help but feel anger as he remembered the injustice he had to go through to end in that place, fighting for his life every day, killing mechs that he had started to consider his friends, brothers, even. Orion stared at him in silence, too surprised and scared to say a word. It wasn't his fault, but he felt responsible for some reason.

"I..." he stuttered with melancholy. "I had no idea of that."

"Of course you don't!" he replied, angrier. "You can't change the world using words! Something must be done!".

Silence filled the room for a moment, as both were too busy gathering their thoughts. Megatronus, with rage running through his fuel lines, was trying to calm himself; the librarian had no fault in the matter, but he could hardly avoid to see without envy, how lucky he was to be working each day in a safe place, surrounded by normal cybertronians. Orion, however, feeling like it was only his fault, took the burden of the world on his shoulders, and decided that something should be done to change it. Maybe he wasn't a strong warrior, but he had found one; and, seeing him proclaim his cause with such passion, Orion was convinced he had found a real hero.

"I can put a word for you..." Orion suggested shyly.

Megatronus, surprised by this, turned around to face him, his optics telling him to explain himself.

"My mentor," Orion specified, "I know he can talk to the High Council to do something about it. He's wise and well-respected; even if he can't help us he will know what to do."

Megatronus went back to walk in circles, his thoughts wondering about Orion's words. Could it be there was a solution for this? For years he had thought the High Council was no more than a corrupt group of mechs and femmes, willing to do anything to keep themselves in power; of course, most of this thoughts came from the miners and those who suffered. If this librarian was right, and Megatronus could see he wasn't lying, it would mean there was a chance to change things.

"How is it possible they don't know about our suffering yet?" asked Megatronus, his mind forming a counter-attack to his own thoughts.

"The High Council is in charge to keep the balance in Cybertron," explained Orion; "but if no request is made in the Council then there's a high chance they won't learn of the problem. They are the rulers of Cybertron, but they are no different from mechs like you or me."

"If they get fuel everyday and have a comfortable berth to lay on, then there's a huge different between me and them." replied Megatronus with bitterness.

The silence made audible again; Orion couldn't understand his reasons to not trust the Council, and probably never would. But, even if Megatronus didn't support the idea, Orion was willing to talk with his mentor and seek for advice and help. Now that he was aware of this matter, he felt the urgent necessity to do something about it.

Orion led himself to the exit, not even bothering to say goodbye. He gave one step out of the cell, when Megatronus' voice, filled with authority, broke the silence.

"You have three days," he said. "If your mentor can't help us, then don't bother in coming back."

Orion could barely recharge that night. His mind was troubled, finding solutions to problems he didn't even know its magnitude. None of the datapads at the Iacon Database mentioned the slavery and the fate of the lower casts; and, though he was aware of their existence, Orion had never met one of them personally, until that day.

But his main concern was on the deadline the gladiator had set for him. Three wouldn't be enough for his mentor to talk the Council, even less to convince them. Something had to be done and yet, Orion couldn't think anything of it. He had never met the High Council, that was his mentor's duty; but he doubted they would be sparkless enough to not listen the plea of those suffering miners.

"And yet..." he muttered in a low voice.

What if they were aware of the problem? Orion felt cold run through his spinal struts at the thought. He had never doubted about the Council's duty, it was impossible! The High Council had been chosen directly by the original Primes, to think of them as corrupted beings...! Orion shut down his optics and rolled to the other side, trying to vanish the thoughts that were hurting his processor.

Maybe he was over thinking again...

Trying to fall asleep with happier thoughts than those the meeting with the gladiator could bring, Orion's processor brought back the almost forgotten image of the femme he had met. Though the impact of her smile was far less what was once, it served to its purpose. Would he ever see her again? At this rate he had lost all hopes, but still, he had her memory for whenever he needed it.

However, truth be told, if Orion had waited a bit longer, he would have met her; and would have seen, with an unspeakable delight, how she was looking forward to see him. But, as such meeting didn't occur, Elita had been forced to return the datapad to someone else. Though she wondered what happened with the librarian that attended her so kindly the other day, she didn't ask; and now both were exposed to never meet again.

Naming the maybe's that could happen now would be a waste of time. And, for the time being, all that mattered is that, despite the troubles haunting his processor, Orion had fell asleep.

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**I'm trying to be as accurate as possible about the facts; though I'm taking a few liberties on the character's personalities. I hope you leave a review telling me what you think :) **

**See ya~!**

**P.S: Thanks to those that follow the story, you help me to keep going!**


	4. Solus Prime

**Wooosh! This chapter took me forever! I must say Elita is a hard character (well, it is if you don't know her!). But my inspiration wasn't cooperating either, so I'm to blame on the matter too.**

**Disclaimer****: I don't own Transformers in any way, shape, or form. All the characters belong to Hasbro, and the general main plot as well.**

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"Solus Prime"

One of the beauties of Cybertron was the gleaming of the buildings at dawn; it would be as if the city was covered in gold dust. Some cybertronians, loving the warm feeling of the sun on their armors, would often try to find a high spot and watch with delight; Orion, as much as he loved to do it every morning, was too tired to attend the sound of his alarm. The mixed emotions of last night had drained more energy from him than he had thought; and, for when he woke up, the sun was placing to announce midday.

"Oh, no...".

When had been the last time that Orion Pax, the most responsible librarian of the Iacon database, had fallen asleep? Not wasting time in answering questions that wouldn't lead him anywhere, Orion quickly went to the bathroom, polished his armor (vaguely), and transformed to go to work. Normally he would walk, finding pleasure in the sight of the cybertronian daily life; but today he was in a rush, life would have to wait.

The library always opened shortly after dawn; but few beings would go at that hour. Orion's only hope was that, during his absence, no one has gone inside; otherwise... he could see his career as a librarian getting to an end.

Orion, as he reached the database, quickly transformers back to his normal mode and skipped the steps that separated him from the entrance. The grinding sound of his brakes drew the attention of others, but Orion dismissed the glares he was receiving. What was so surprising of someone getting late for work? He was sure he was not the only one who had gone through it.

Orion reached the door in the exact unfortunate moment someone from the other side was opening it; but, as he was in a rush, he didn't notice until the door slammed against his faceplates and sent him to the ground.

"Are you okay? I'm so sorry, I didn't see you!" he heard the responsible apologize.

Orion rubbed his sore faceplates, and could swear he had a dent at the half of his face; but all those thoughts were forgotten as his optics met the gaze of the femme he thought he would never meet again.

"I-I'm fine!" he stuttered as he stood up quickly.

An awkward silence ensued between the two. His armor was still covered with dust of the coliseum, and, since he couldn't see his faceplates, he was convinced he had a giant dent in the half of his helm. If that wasn't enough, the impression she must have of him, as someone irresponsible and quite clumsy, was enough to destroy all the hopes Orion had to cause a second good impression on her.

"I-I'm sorry," he apologized, avoiding visual contact with her. "I'm blocking your way."

"Oh, no!" she said, her mind going back to reality. "I was actually looking for someone who could help me..."

Orion, feeling his spark beating faster, rose his gaze to met hers. It was she who was avoiding visual contact now; her optics were shamefully looking somewhere else, and Orion could notice the small heat on her faceplates as she placed a digit on her chin, pretending to be thinking thoroughly.

"If that's the case," managed to say Orion without stutter, "shall we go inside? I apologize for not being there before, I..."

Elita, with her faceplates heating even more, felt ashamed of receive more attention from him after what had happened. She tried to refuse his proposal, thinking it would be best to leave things like that for today and come next time, hoping she would be more lucky (or more careful); but his gentle manners convinced her of going back inside, this time accompanied by him.

They walked in silence, their minds busy in their own thoughts, until they reached the control panel Orion was used to work in. The librarian, looking to all sides in search of his mentor, vented in relief as he saw no trace of him. Feeling the pressure going off his shoulders, Orion checked the security systems and the datapad registers; though the files could be hardly of any interest to common burglars, the information in the Iacon database was invaluable in the servos of those that knew how to misuse it.

"Is everything okay?" asked Elita, seeing the concerned frown on his faceplates.

"It's... nothing," he replied. Since she had been here early, Orion felt it was his responsibility to help her first; he could perfectly do the checking later, when no one would interrupt him.

Walking between the shelves, filled with datapads; Elita informed, with a hint of shyness, she was doing a research related to flying robots. Why a femme like her would be interested in something like that, Orion would never know. But, leaving that aside, he noticed how the subject was of great interest for her and, therefore, he should present respectful.

"Have you ever seen one fly?" asked Elita, enthusiastic as she noticed her companion paying attention to what she thought was a delusional dream.

"At dawn, yes," he replied. "They tend to fly above the buildings every morning."

"I watch them, too!" she replied, her faceplates lighting up in delight.

It is odd how the worst of circumstance can suddenly change into a fulfilled dream. Being able to talk freely with her, sharing his knowledge about seekers, between many other types of fliers he had read about, gave Orion a certain confidence in his skill and knowledge that not even all the appreciation of Alpha Trion had given to him. Maybe he had caused a second good impression, after all.

"And what is exactly your research about?" inquired Orion.

"Well..." Elita felt unsure of trust her dreams with someone who barely knew; but, from another perspective, the mech had been too nice with her to not trust him. Besides, having someone to discuss her theories and projects could help her to feel encouraged to move forward, even when, so far, she had been disappointed by her close ones.

"I'm trying to create a flying device for grounders," she replied, noticing the surprise in Orion's optics. Taking this as a good sign, she continued, "seekers and fliers in general are capable of this only in their alt mode. But, thanks to their frame, they can still glide in mid-air without being transformed. However, to change a grounder's alt mode you need to replace, take and add several pieces of armor."

Orion was listening in silence, admiration for her growing in his spark. She was resolute to fulfill her dream and, contrary to those that dream but never move a digit to make it true, she had done severe research already. Her theories, though Orion couldn't say they were correct for he was no expert in the subject, weren't so far from the right path.

"The change, though it's the safest way so far, might not suite to all of robots. And," at this, she stopped her enthusiasm a bit, and Orion noticed her faceplates heating again. "... Don't misunderstand me, please; I'm not a femme that lives of appearances, but... I like the way I look, and I don't wish to change it."

Orion was about to respond to that, wishing his courage wouldn't fail him. But he only had time to open his mouth when the sillhouete of Alpha Trion at the end of the corridor appeared. Orion stopped his tracks for a moment and excused himself to Elita before running towards his mentor.

"I believe you have just arrived," stated the Prime, frowning. "Walk with me, please."

Orion looked back to Elita, who was watching the scene from far behind; he pleaded to her, with his optics, to wait for him. Elita, by all response, nodded and started to take a look to the closest shelf.

They walked in silence for what Orion thought it was an eternity. Leaving the narrow corridors between the shelves behind, Orion and Alpha Trion reached the center of the Iacon database.

It was an open space; the floor was of a resistent mirror ceramic, and there was a window instead of a wall that allowed the sunlight penetrate the building, allowing, at the same time, the view of city. Contrary to the outside, full of movement, in the inside there was nothing more than a few robots, all of them focused on the magnificent statue that was lying in the center.

"Orion," started talking Alpha Trion. "Do you know of who is the statue over there?"

The young librarian remained in silence for a moment. Of course he knew! He had lived his entire life in the Iacon database, not to mention all of the files he had read; but, he was sure Alpha Trion kewn this too, leading him to the question, what is his point?

"It's Solus Prime, sir. One of the thirteen; the one killed by The Fallen, to be precise."

Alpha Trion closed his optics, the painful memory coming back to his processor; he had lived longer than he had wished, and seen more than he expected. Knowledge, though he had taught Orion the great ally it was, it had become its greatest enemy.

"As you well know, Orion," continued, leaving behind the overwhelming feeling of a moment ago. "Solus Prime was the creator of many weapons, the Requiem Blaster being the most powerful it ever existed. However, she pointed out, wisely, that too much power can corrupt anyone."

"But, the weapon was needed, right?" he intervened. "Megatronus resquested it to stop Unicron."

"Indeed," replied Alpha Trion, hiding the sadness in his optics. "But maybe if we had heard her plea, we would have prevented her sudden death."

Silence followed this statement. Being in front of the statue, Orion couldn't do more than keep still and wait for his mentor; he knew the story very well to understand his behaviour. But it would pass long time before he could understand the feeling of guilt and regret.

"Sometimes we do the wrong thing with the best of our intentions, Orion."

Orion let the words sink in his processor, and meditated about them. There was no doubt that Alpha Trion knew about his encounter with the gladiator and, therefore, he knew about their talk. But, what was he implying? To leave the world as it was? To let those robots suffer 'til their deaths? Was that really the Cybertron he and the other twelve had fought for?

"With all respect, sir," said Orion, after a pause to gather courage. "I believe freedom is a right for all sentient beings."

The Prime opened his optics in surprise and his gaze met the young mech's. To be so determined being so young was surprising, indeed. But he wouldn't expect less of the mech he had taken under his protection ever since he was a sparkling.

"Your motivations are pure, Orion." said Alpha Trion, enigmatically. "Make sure they remain the same all the time."

The young librarian saw his mentor walk to the other side and disappear between the book shelves; confusion written on his faceplates. Just like a sparkling learns through the vorns how the scolding of a father is to prevent them of danger in the future, Orion was sure he would understand later. But, as his mentor had shown concern, he was afraid that something he would regret later would happen.

Feeling very, very, small; Orion rose his gaze to meet the statue's optics. Though he knew she couldn't listen, and Alpha Trion had taught him that her statue was no comparison against the real Solus Prime (nor in greatness and presence); Orion felt like she had been the only witness of their conversation and, to be fair, the only one that had understood it.

Walking in silence, Orion stepped away of the statue, his tracks going back to where he had left Elita. Robots thought that the statue could listen to their problems, solve them, even. Alpha Trion had taught him, however, that such thing would never happen. Solus Prime had died at the hands of a broken hero, hopelessly. What change could she make being dead? Behind Orion, though he was far away from it now, still could be seen the silhouette of the statue of Solus Prime, her gaze never leaving the Iacon database.

"Are you okay?" asked Elita when she saw him appear between the shelves.

"Yes," he lied smiling. "Now, please, what I can do for you?"

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**SJKHFKJSDHFKSBFSHAFJSDBJFHSDKJFKSAJDSA! - me ranting.**

**Okay, I had finished this and was ready to upload it when I realized I forgot to save the last time and I lost the end I had planned. Now I had to write it again but it's not the same; inspiration left me alone, again.**

**I'm doing this short! 1st: sorry if characters look OOC, I've been doing research about them, but it's not the same (Elita!). About Elita's idea/proyect I will explain it with more detail in the next chapter. Credits for pika on DeviantArt; I based the Iacon database (the open area, at least), in her drawing of "Under her watch". Though at first seemed like a good idea to make Orion ask for protection to the statue, after I lost that part, I decided to make him believe, under his mentor's words, that the statue had no 'magical effect'. Please don't kill me!**

**See ya~!**

**To Suomynona: I had planned to let them meet again, sorry for messing with you ;)**


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